Stars Are Bound to Change
by IOU1882
Summary: Joan of Arc is not dead. She was saved from the fire by a certain red-headed warrior. Now immortal in the 16th century, she's going undercover for the Catholic Church in England to dig up dirt on King Henry VIII. At Court she met the Princess Mary Tudor. The two of them soon forms a formidable friendship. Will Joan just end up helping Mary become Queen?
1. Chapter 1

**OK so first warning, this is my very first story for the Tudors. I love the show, it's incredibly charming and dramatic, if not somewhat inaccurate and exaggerated at parts. The Tudors are like my Top 5 favorite topics in history. Still #1 is the woderful and heroic Joan of Arc, who will be representing the other half of this strange crossover.**

**So please be nice and gentle on me and my poor story. Any kind of input or friendly comment and advice is fine by me. The more the merrier, eh?**

***DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Tudors, which belongs to BBC, or Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel, which completely belongs to the extremely talented Michael Scott. I really recommend reading the series, it's even more amazing than Harry Potter and Percy Jackson combined. Seriously. Why the hel is it not a movie yet?!**

**Yes, the is meant to be a crossover but I didn't really want to place it into the crossover section, since nobody really checks there often. So you can just go ahead and mentally include Joan of Arc as a character.**

*Italics=**Thoughts**

* * *

**May 1531**

_By God, how dares he speak so vemenously of my mother! Isn't it bad enough, now that he has divorced her? He might be my father, but I still want to kill him!_

Princess Mary Tudor had these thoughts and more, as she sat there forcing herself to bear her father's heated rantings.

"Good grief, Mary, you are as stubborn as your mother!"Cried Henry VIII as he stood behind his stately desk."All that I'm asking of you...is to renounce Catherine as Queen, and acknowledge me as the supreme head of the Church of England. You are my daughter so I will be generous towards you. Do this right now, and I shall allow you to keep on practicing your religious ways." Henry then moved forward with his expression of pleading. "Please Mary, it will make it so much easier for all of us."

Mary retained her stiffly stoic expression, making her look as serious as a 40 year old. With arms crossed, she verily shook her head "no".

King Henry, on the verge of pure anger, was only disappointed. Returning to his chair, he fell carelessly into it with a deep sigh of fustration.

Just then, a smiling and peppy Anne Boleyn danced into the room, a goblet of wine held in her hand. Light on her feet, she smoothly slid into the King's hold.

The cloud of darkness was instantly lifted from Henry's head as he held his darling Anne, who is now sitting on his lap. A broad smile was across his face. For Mary, however, the presence of that putrid woman brought along many hardships and spite.

"Anne, my enchanting angel, what brings you here at this time?" Asked the King lightly.

Before answering, Anne leaned in and kissed Henry. "Well, my love Henry, I was just having a such wonderful day! I just wanted to see your handsome face, as my husband-to-be." She gave him a ravishing smile that could have seduced any king.

Nausia suddenly flooded Mary's stomach. She can't stand this wicked display any longer!

"Heretic!" yelled Mary as she rose firmly to her feet. With her proud demeanor, she pointed a scorning finger at both of them. "You two are heretics! I shall never acknowledge you as the head of your own church! And you-"

Her furious gaze turned on Anne. "You are the reason for my mother's sufferings! It was you who have seduced my father and lured him away from his lawful wife! No matter what, I shall never see you as Queen...as you are nothing more than a whore!"

Anne gasped in being offended by Mary's sharp words. Henry was equally shocked and stared at Mary in dazed bewilderment. No, surely this could not be the words of his Mary, his sweet Pearl!

Tears welled up in Anne's eyes and she hid her face within Henry's warm chest. Henry sympathetically stroke her hair in an attempt to soothe her.

"Mary, that was extremely inappropriate of you! Apologize to Anne right now!"

Mary's lips tightened. He really wants her to apololgize to that...that whore? To that harlot? _Oh, how I would rather die!_

Her legs carried her forward, against the wishes of her heart. Soon enough, she was standing before King Henry, with a distraught Anne crying into him. With a slight nod, he beckoned her to proceed.

"I'm sorry, Lady Anne", she said half-heartedly.

Henry was satisfied. "Good. You may go now."

Mary did a quick curtsey, then took her leave and headed out the room. When she was near the doorway, Anne lifted up her head and began drying her tears.

She called after her, "Mark my words, Mary, that you shall be sorry for your insults towards me! Know that I am fertile and that God will bless us with many healthy children! I am nothing like your mother, that barren Spanish cow!"

It pained Mary to hear Henry and Anne laughing afterwards. Her cheeks bloomed a reddish tinge, reflecting the mixed feelings of anger, humiliation and scorn that was fuming within her being. How could they be so heartless and cruel towards her poor mother? Isn't it enough that she has lost everything? With that point, she has the right to hate Henry and Anne.

Eventually, the tears threatened to fall. Mary dashed through the hall, and into the relative safety of her own chamber. There on her bed, she cried in solitary, with no one to love...no one to trust. Even her loyal advisor, Eustace Chapuys was out of reach.

_Oh Chapuys, how I wish you are here with me! But alas you are caught up with business in Spain. Please come back soon, I pray. I need you now at this moment._

At Court, she is like a lone lamb in the midst of vicious, bloodthirty wolves. With the Boleyns and the Howards lurking at every corner, nothing is safe, for they can easily end her life in the blink of an eye. With Anne capturing all the King's attention and love, they can most likely get away with anything.

All of these dangerous trials would certainly be more bearable if she had her mother with her and Chapuys. What Mary desperately needs is an ally, somebody to place her hopes and trust in. Somebody to care for her...

* * *

**Northern Coast of France**

An elaborate French barge is drifting along steadily in the calm waters of the English Channel. A fresh summer breeze whisked through the air, carrying with it the salty tang of the ocean. The royal banner of France waves triumphantly from it's crowning position at the top of the mast. Everything about the craft sired high precedent, from it's high-quality timber hull to its stunning display of regal pomp and fanfare.

A slender youth rests against the side of the sailing barge, intently taking in all the wonderous sights that the vast sea has to offer. He is wearing a doublet of blue clothe, white hose, and feathered cap with short cape to match. Brown hair was cropped closely above the ears like a squire, and large blue eyes dominated a relatively boyish face. From the looks of it, one might have guessed the lad to be somewhere between 17 and 18.

That "shapely youth" is in reality, Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans. She didn't die by fire, as history will remember, but was rescued by her good friend, Scathach the Shadow. Now going undercover as a French ambassador named, Jean du Lys, she has been recruited by Rome and the Pope to be their agent in England.

Her primary task, is to attend the English Court and report back to them the daily schemes of King Henry VIII, who has been dubbed "The Heretic King". Isn't it a wonderful irony, how a person once burned as a heretic by the Catholic Church, should end up helping it later on.

Presently, Joan removed her cap and allowed for her dark locks to be tossed by the wind. She gazed out into the far horizon, where the sun is bound to set, and became lost in her determined thoughts.

_Three days until we reach England...I can hardly wait._

* * *

**Yup, that is really my first chapter, an introduction of sorts. Sooo how is it? Did you like it? I know I know, the idea for this story is really strange. Joan of Arc and Mary Tudor teaming up? Well I say, why not!**

**Now I will tell you that I'm not really experienced with writing drama and angst stories...I've always been in my element with humour and stuff. So please forgive me if my writing turns out to be...suckish in a word. Yeah that's it. **

**So please review! No joke, I'm dead serious, you have to to review! Please, I always do better when I get reviews, because they make me feel good and encourages me. Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! So this is my second chapter, get excited! So the foundation is a little shaky, mostly because I can't find any words to move the story along. It's a loooong process, but I'm trying my best! Oh yeah, and did I mention that Joan is immortal? She is.**

**So here's goes nothing...**

**I do not own anything except for the plot.**

* * *

**July 1531**

The King has ordered a grand ball in celebration of his successful break from Rome, and the banishment of Catherine of Aragon. Much to the sorrow of her supporters, the saintly Spanish woman now languishes in lonesome misery at Kimbolten Castle. Her daughter, Mary, has also been recently declared a bastard, thus being illegitimate. Both mother and child are separated, not allowed to seek comfort with each other.

_No, there is still_ _hope!_ Mary told herself confidently._ My mother has aged, but she is still a fighter! She will fight for my rights constantly and until her last, dying breath will she not yield!_

Mary was sitting at a table with a few of her remaining ladies-in-waiting. Upon making her a royal bastard, her father the King also took away most of her ladies and gave them to Anne as a token of his undying love for her. Yet another reason she would want him dead.

Mary's grave mood was in stark contrast the all the merriment and mirth, and joy raging around her. Minstrels were singing passionate ballads, as musicians played their joyous tunes. Noblemen and knights went around indulging in wine and getting drunk. Women gathered in bunches, busy with exchanging gossips and light chats. To her, it was a mockery of her ruined, pointless life.

"Lady Mary, are you enjoying the festivities this evening?"

Mary looked up and couldn't believe her eyes to see none other, than Anne Boleyn standing by her. Surprisingly still, the King was not at her side as usual.

"Just fine", said Mary coldly. "Though I don't see how my poor mother's banishment is anything to celebrate."

Anne just laughed lightly before getting into Mary's face, her dark eyes narrowed. "Listen well, Lady Mary, and read my lips. Your pathetic mother is nothing to me, and neither are you, bastard! Do you really think that anything you say to me will matter? The King loves me and I will be Queen, a far better one than Catherine!"

Even as Anne spoke, Mary's ladies were scrambling away from the table.

Mary's hand clutched the edge of her table, yet she remained firmly composed before her opponent.

"If my words don't matter, then why are you angered so?" Mary inquired decisively. "And I am not a bastard! The people love my mother, and she will never stop supporting me. She is the true Queen, not you! Also, good luck with keeping the King's attention...he has a notorious wandering eye", added Mary with a smirk. "Trust me, Anne, you won't last long in the King's heart."

Anne's breathing became hotter, more rapid and her hands clutched into fists. She wanted so badly to slap Mary, to release her forceful wrath upon her. But not here, not now. Another time will do. So with her head held high, Anne Boleyn haughtily turned and walked away, her ladies-in-waiting following behind.

Mary stared after her for a moment, before releasing a sigh of relief. She picked up her goblet and took a sip of ale. She never liked wine, too French. Anne Boleyn was raised in France. All of that sparring back and forth with Anne had made her throat dry and worn.

She scanned her surroundings with a disapproving glare. Then the ceremonial notes of trumpets pealed out, signaling the arrival of royalty.

"His Majesty, our King Henry of England has come!"

Shortly after being announced, King Henry gallantly sauntered into the hall. Mary noticed that he was talking with somebody, a nobleman perhaps. A servant presented Henry with a goblet, which he gladly took.

Raising it high in the sights of everyone, he loudly proclaimed, "To the new Church of England and the future Queen Anne!"

Numerous cheers rose up from the vast multitude, as they toasted with their King. It was the Boleyn and Howard factions that were most enthusiastic. The fortunes were in their favor, for they virtually ruled over the Court with the King tightly under Anne's thumb. Their dream of a glorious dynasty for their namesake is closer than ever to fulfillment.

Afterwards, the rejoicings instantly resumed among the courtiers. From the corner of her eye, Mary caught a glimpse of two people heading her way. She turned her head, and saw that it was only her father...and a young man with blue eyes.

A strange feeling overcame Mary. She found herself entranced by the young man, a certain fascination that she could not describe. She wanted to meet him.

King Henry approached his daughter with a greeting, "Mary, how glad am-"

"Father, who is this gentleman?" asked Mary eagerly and out of term."I have never seen him before."

Henry almost laughed out loud at her surprise question. "This-"he began while gesturing to the lad,"-is Jean du Lys, Ambassador of Francis I in France. There, now you know."

Jean bowed politely before Mary, in the most graceful and fluent motion she has ever seen. She was charmed by him already. Even though he turned out to be a Frenchman, Mary could not find anything wrong with the handsome lad. Though, he does seem to be quite young for an ambassador, for it takes years of education and training.

"Henry! Come dance with me, please!" Anne shot him a wistful smile, as she smoothly motioned Henry to her.

Lovestruck, Henry sought to join his lover so that they can dance together. Looking at Mary and Jean, he said, "Please pardon me, but I must go now. I hope that you two will enjoy the rest of the evening tonight."

Then with a curt nod, he took his leave and wasted no time in reaching Anne. Hand-in-hand, the couple happily entered the dance floor with the others.

Mary and Jean stayed in silence for a moment. "Monsieur ambassador, would you care to take a seat", offered Mary kindly.

Jean du Lys gave her gracious smile in return. "Qui, I would love to. Thank you Princess Mary." He then sat down in the seat across from her.

Once settled, he saw that Mary's eyes were downcast. Her expression was that of loss and sorrow. His brows furrowed a bit.

"Princess Mary...I know we have just met, but I beg you tell me what is bothering you." Concern was clear in his tone, as well as reflected in his eyes.

Mary looked at him, perplexed. Here was this man whom she'd recently met, and don't know anything about apart that he's French...actually taking the time to ask what is bothering her? It's been so long since somebody had shown the same kindness and respect to her, that this stranger is now. It was difficult to respond.

"Well, ambassador, since you asked..."She trailed of a bit and resumed in French."It's just you should know, that I'm no longer a Tudor princess. My father the King have cruelly divorced my mother, Catherine of Aragon. So now I am only a bastard."

She was utterly surprised to discover how light one's soul could become after talking about a problem. Mary felt better than she been in such a long time.

"Ah, yes I understand you",said Jean du Lys. Then with sympathy, he took Mary's hands and held them in his own. "I feel truly sorry for you, young Mary. For I am too, a Catholic and believe in the true faith. What your father did is absolutely despicable in the eyes of God. I believe that you have suffered greatly during these past events, especially without your mother."

Mary was awestruck. He spoke so sincerely, that it was as if he's actually reading her soul. At that moment, everything else sort of went away and it seem like they are the only ones there. What really amazed her was that he is speaking the truth. She does despise her father and his actions, she is hurting from all the blows dealt against her, and she does desire to be with her mother more than anything! Oh, how badly she wanted to burst into tears!

"Lady Mary?"

Jean's voice brought Mary back from her trance and she shook her head. "Huh? Oh, forgive me, ambassador for I did not mean to-"

"No need for apologies", said Jean with a light smile. "But you appear awfully tired. Why don't you retire for the night? I'll inform your father of it later."

He's right, yet again. Mary felt lightheaded and she could barely keep her eyes open at all. Craning her neck to look past Jean, she saw that everyone else was still in high spirits, while showing no signs of tiring even then. Henry was carrying Anne on his back, laughing and enjoying themselves. Henry's friend, Charles Brandon consumed wine by the gallons.

She then turned back to Jean du Lys and said,"I suppose it's the best thing for me to do. Thank you, ambassador, it has been delightful talking with you. Good night."

As she got up to leave, Jean grabbed her hand and she froze. "Meet me in the garden tomorrow", he requested."I have matters of utmost importance to discuss with you."

Mary couldn't comprehend, for it was so sudden. But she had to answer him. "I will."

Once in her bed, Mary couldn't stop thinking about that charming Jean du Lys. Just in that one night, he has proven himself to being kind, sentimental, virtuous, intelligent, and noble. What an incredible man!

Then there's the matter of "utmost important". What could it possibly be, and how is it related to her?

But before she had the chance to dwell on it, sleep came and whisked her away in peace.

* * *

The Sun's far-reaching rays banished away the lingering gray of dawn.

The large garden of Windsor Castle became washed in a gossamer veil of golden light.

Joan of Arc stepped into garden, dressed in the formal male attire of the day. Only this time, she isn't being threatened for doing so. It's the ideal disguise for her to assume in a virtually male-dominated environment.

Picking up a rose, she brought it to her nose and took in a whiff of its pleasant scent. Taking a seat on the first bench, Joan noticed that the garden was entirely empty of any patrons. Remembering the events of last night, Joan was not the bit surprised.

_They must all be worn out from the festivities last night. It was pretty wild, no doubts about it._

Casually leaning back on the bench, she began to reminisce her meeting with Lady Mary Tudor, estranged daughter of King Henry VIII. Joan had a natural gift for figuring people out. She felt as if she already knew the girl, though she'd been told things by the people in Rome.

_Mary is resentful of her father for many things, that is certain. He is under the influence of that Anne Boleyn woman. The whore, whose family are devoted Protestants and enemies of Mary at Court. They are in a shaky alliance with the Howards due to marriage. It's their hope for Anne to become Queen, thus ensuring the advancement of their legacy in England and the success of the Reformation movement. It must be stopped... and I am assigned to do just that._

_Perhaps the key to my goal lies in Mary Tudor? What would happen if she is crowned Queen?_

At first glance, Mary seems like the most perfect candidate. First of all, she is Catholic and she has the full support of the masses. In their eyes Anne, the mere daughter of a knight, doesn't hold a candle to the Princess with royal blood from both sides. Even if she does give birth to a son, the people will not stand for it. If Henry were to die early, war would break out in England once again, and many will be flocking to be under Mary's banner. Once Queen, Mary shall reinstate the Catholic faith and reunite England with Rome. That shouldn't be too hard, since there are a number of devoted Catholics left in England. Including one of Thomas Moore...

"Lovely morning is it not, ambassador?"

Now standing in front of Joan was Mary Tudor, smiling sweetly. Joan cleared her throat then replied,"Why yes, Lady Mary, it is a lovely morning. Though not as lovely as you." She flashed a smile revealing straight white teeth. "I've always been told that English Roses are visions of pure beauty and grace. You are the proof."

Mary smiled wanly and found herself blushing in no time. "And I've heard that the French are such notorious flatterers. But nonetheless, thank you."

Joan chuckled at her witty remark. "We French just do what we can to survive, dear Lady. Most would call it cowardly, but it's actually quite practical."

Then promptly standing up, Jean offered her his arm. "Care to take a walk with me?"

Mary happily took it, so thus they began their stroll through the vast garden.

"Ambassador-"

"Please, call me Jean as my friends do."

"Jean?" The informality of it sounded strange to her. "As you wish, ambas-I mean-Jean. So tell me, what is this matter of 'utmost importance that you mentioned?"

"Ah yes! Thank you for reminding me. Well to begin with, I'm not exactly who you think, Lady Mary."

Mary was confused and her brows met in uncertainty. "What do you mean, Jean? I thought you are an ambassador."

Jean wistfully exhaled and said,"No I am not. That is only my cover."

"Cover?" Mary's eyes were now wide in alarm.

"The truth is, Mary, I am secretly here as an agent of the Church in Rome. I was sent to England so that I may find out more information on King Henry...incriminating evidence, to be precise. The only reason that I'm telling you this, is because I feel like I can trust you."

He stopped and turned to see how Mary was reacting to it. Slowly backing away, Mary just stared at Jean in astonishment and shock. She remained speechless for a while.

"I-I...I can't believe it",she finally said. "You were really sent here by Rome?"

"Yes",repeated Jean once again."And I know for a fact that you will not tell your father nor anyone about this. We are both Catholics, we are on the same side."

Walking towards Mary, Jean solemnly grasped her shoulders. "I want to help you Mary, believe me. My task is to gather evidence, but I want to do so much more. What I desire is to make all of England Catholic again and stop the Reformation in its tracks. By crowning you as Queen, this can be accomplished. You know as well as I, that the people are willing to accept you as the foremost heir to the throne. For you are descended from truly great Kings and Queens. Who could deny you of your birthright? So will you, Mary Tudor, join forces with me so that we may restore the True Faith in England and grant glory to our Lord and Christ?"

To become Queen of England? Countless times have Mary brooded over the prospect, of being a powerful and independent monarch, adored by her subjects. She's been meaning to restore Catholicism also. Sadly, she had thought them to being only pointless and distant fantasies...until now.

"Yes!" That was her final answer.

Jean du Lys smiled in pleasure at her decision. "Excellent choice, dear Mary. Together and by God's grace, we shall prevail. I promise."

* * *

Morning light streamed through the glass window of the King's chamber.

A shirtless Henry laid sprawled on his back in his bed. Groaning, he attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes. Try as he might, he could not pertain any memory of what happened the night before.

Suddenly, he felt a petite hand grasp on to his own. Shifting side-ways, Henry came face to face with his future Queen, Anne Boleyn. Her nude form was covered by a blanket. Her luscious back hair was spread across a pillow.

"How did you sleep?" She asked softly.

"Like a newborn", replied Henry with light smile.

With one arm, he held her close against him. Anne nestled her head under his chin as she gently caressed his muscular chest.

"You want to know what I dreamt about?"

"Of course, I do! Everything you have say, I'll listen."

"Oh, it was so wonderful!"Began Ann with enthusiasm."I dreamt that we are already married. We were immensely happy."

"Did we have children?" inquired Henry excitedly.

"Yes! We had a dozen sons and a dozen daughters. The boys had red hair and blue eyes, all strapping and handsome like you. The girls were beautiful and possess dark hair like mine." She sighed dreamily.

"Ah, that is the perfect family", he said while pecking Ann on the forehead. "Our perfect family."

"I can hardly wait to marry you, my love",crooned Anne. "When will our wedding be?"

Henry hesitated to answer. "As soon as Catherine is willing to acknowledge me as the head of England's Church and renounce her title as Queen."

"WHAT?!" Anne's calm demeanor instantly morphed into rage. "Are you really serious, Henry? That bitch hates me! She will never come to accept the Oath so we will never wed!"

Henry rubbed the aching temples of his head. "Now Anne, there's no need to need to get upset", he told her sternly. "It's only fair that we give her a chance, as she is an Infanta of Spain."

"But-"

She was silenced as Henry held a finger to her lips. "Do not say another word. There is to be no more discussion of this matter, agreed?"

Not feeling well enough to argue, Anne nodded in resignation. Henry was satisfied and he leaned in to kiss her

* * *

**So that's it folks! This chapter turned out longer than I thought. Who knew I had it in me? **

**For those who complained, keep your hotdogs in your buns! I am NOT going to make Anne a villain...not for the whole story at least. So put away your pitchforks and torches, I don't want to see them.**

**A little quick fun-fact: Joan's alias is "Jean du Lys". I chose that name because the French king gave her family the title "du Lys" when he ennobled her and her family. So it makes sense, right? I hope so.**

**Special thanks to everyone who reviewed so far, even though my writing can be a bit below the bar at times. I'm really getting better, believe me! So please review and make me happy. PLEASE IT'S ALL I'M ASKING! **

**Ciao!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Third chapter guys, be proud of me! To be honest, I never thought to go this far. My brain is literally, positively dead at this time. I just don't feel it working and the creative juices refusing to flow. Also, it's been a while since I watched the show and I have no historical references, partly due to the fact that I'm too lazy to do extra research. So I'm basically just limping along. I really want to get this story over with, because it's killing me.**

**So after reading the reviews, I notices that there was a rift between those who hate that Anne's a stereotypical evil villain, and those who straight on hate her guts. QOP and York, you have made your opinions very clear. This is my story, it's my brain-child so I get full control over it. But, I know that Anne has the potential of being a good person. She's just momentarily blinded by power and her ambitious family of noble douchebags. The family is to blame, not her. So please don't hate on Anne anymore, it's all I'm asking. But if you still feel the way you do, then fine. Just don't say anything about it. Forever hold your peace or whatever. Thank you very much.**

**Now with that over with...who would like to see Joan of Arc trump a Boleyn at fencing? I know I do right now.**

* * *

**October 1531**

Fall came early to the English nation that year. The ripened crops are promptly being harvested, as are livestock being slaughtered in preparation of the winter to come. Windsor Palace was busily being stocked up with all sorts of vegetables and meat.

The leaves of trees were no longer green, but turned into crisp red, gold, orange and brown. Nature slowed down almost to the point of a standstill. Woodland creatures became scarce as they were all disappearing into their secret winter quarters. A chill was in the air, as well as anticipation and uncertainty.

In the courtyard of Windsor Palace, a few Boleyn and Howard men are engaging in bouts of fencing. The seniors were only standing by and watching, as their sons did the actual fighting. The Earl of Wiltshire and his brothers-in-law, Thomas and Edmund Howard observed with keen attention as their sons took turns sparring with each other.

Joan, known around Court as Jean du Lys, joined them just as George Boleyn and Henry Howard began their round.

"That's the way to go, George!"Rooted Wiltshire to his son. "Always keep an eye on your opponent! Be careful, make no mistakes."

Thomas, the Duke of Norfolk jabbed his arm to get his attention. "Here comes Jean du Lys."

Wiltshire instantly assumed his most courteous smile and greeted Jean. "Ah, Jean du Lys! What a pleasure to see today, ambassador."

"Well I just could not resist seeing a fine match like this", said Jean as he shook each of their hands."It's very common back in France. Are you gentleman going to fence today?"

The three old geezers shook their heads in reply. "Oh no, we are not",said Duke of Norfolk."I believe that I speak for my brothers, when I say that we are too old and worn for these physical activities. You and the youngsters are far more capable than we."

Jean nodded slightly in understanding. "Of course, for it appears so. We wouldn't want any of you busting a hip now, do we?" The older men laughed in amusement at the lad's charming jest.

Then they felt silent and continued to watch the ongoing bout.

George and Henry seemed evenly match. Their blades clashed at mid-range, sending them both staggering back a few steps. For a while, they circled each other, holding their swords before them in a defensive pose. Neither of them dared blink, not even for a second. Then in a sudden reflex, George lunged forward and ultimately thrust his sword point-first, firmly against Henry's chest.

"Huzzah!" cried George in glorious triumph.

Everybody clapped and nodded in silent approval at his skillful demonstration. Even the defeated Henry, who had calmly accepted the outcome. He congratulated George as they both shook hands.

Henry said," You are a worthy opponent, cousin. But don't expect me to be so easy on you next time."

"The same goes for me."

"Ah son, you have made me so proud!" Wiltshire heartily patted his son's back, in honor of his victory. "What now, Norfolk?! This proves that the Boleyns are capable of siring brave soldiers for England!"

Norfolk only folded his arms with a miffed expression. "I guess so. What do you think, ambassador?"

"Well Norfolk, your son obviously possess strong skills",answered Du Lys truthfully. "I can only hope that my son will be as talented."

Norfolk was pleased, as he looked warmly at George. "Yes, yes, for they all can't be as good as he."

Norfolk groaned in aggravation. Even for an ally, is his vain boasting still tiresome.

"So tell us about King Francis", Norfolk requested, thus changing the subject."Does he support our King's intentions to marry Anne Boleyn?"

Du Lys coolly replied,"Oh yes, His Majesty is all for it! He believes that this could be a great opportunity for a brotherly alliance with England. Since Anne is a patroness of France, we will help her any way we can."

"Splendid!" Exclaimed Wiltshire with glee."Tell your master that we would like for him, to be godfather to the future Prince and heir of England!"

"His Majesty will be most honored, your Grace."

Duke Norfolk firmly clasped his hands together, a broad smile on his face. "By God, there's absolutely no doubt that my niece will be able to bring forth a healthy, noble Tudor Prince!"

"She's young, fertile, and robust",remarked Wiltshire. "Anne is everything that her predecessor, Catherine, was not! Once she has given birth, the King will love her even more. And as a final touch, that impotent Spanish cow and her daughter will both be disgraced! This is just perfect! We'll have everything we ever wanted."

Then the men laughed haughtily. All except for the Frenchman.

Jean du Lys silently glowered at them, under his dark brows. Their offensive manner angered him. Firmly gritting his teeth, his hold tightened on his sword

_Fools! Their arrogance will be their downfall. I must protect Mary's honor!_

The Frenchman unsheathed his sword in a grand motion. The blade itself, was almost as long as he was.

The laughter ceased instantly, as the three men stared wide-eyed at the sparkling blade before them.

"Wh-What are you planning to do with that?"asked Wiltshire curiously.

Ignoring that, Du Lys walked past them and steadily approached George Boleyn. The young man was deeply in conversation with his cousins, when he noticed the presence of the Frenchman.

"May I help you, Sir?"

Du Lys' expression was rigid, as he raised his sword, with the tip pointing towards George. "You. I challenge you to a friendly duel. I want to see how good you really are."

George gave his father a questioning look. Should he accept or not?

Wiltshire gave him a solemn nod, telling him to go ahead and accept. _A true Boleyn never declines a challenge._

George instantly rose on his feet and said politely, "I verily accept, your Excellency. I am more than glad to prove my worth to you."

Jean grinned in delight. Then the two parted and went to their respective starting places.

"First person to point their blade at the other's throat is the winner!" Announced the Frenchman. Those words sent an icy shiver creeping down George's spine.

Both men then assumed the essential fencing position. They straightened their torsos and spread their feet apart. Wielding longswords, they held their weapons away to the side in a two-handed grip. It was then that George noticed the Frenchman as being left-handed. Their gazes bored into each other in intense focus.

Meanwhile, the others were drawn to gawk at the spectacle before them. All sounds were suppressed, as they held their breath in anticipation. Norfolk and Wiltshire bent their brows, as Charles Howard bit his lip. The rest were wide-eyed in astonishment. The stillness of the air quickly became unbearable.

The two combatants spent a good while trying to read the other's intentions. Slightly nervous, George began to hesitate in his stance. Opposite of him, Jean du Lys retained a confident composure. George found himself feeling intimidated by the Frenchman's unwavering manner.

Nobody spoke, there was not a single movement. Everything was still.

Then without warning, both combatants launched themselves forward, swords ready to strike. Their blades met in the middle in a sharp clash of steel, that sent them backing away. George tried to swing a Jean, but his blow was easily blocked. Next, he lunged forward hoping to land a thrust. Again, Jean simply parried his attack, pushing the blade back against him. George held firm, but the force caused him to stagger back.

The Frenchman then went on the offensive, as he struck down against George's blade. Blows after blows was dealt and George was struggling to defend himself. Timing carefully, he countered by targeting Jean's weaker right side. Whirling around, he attempted to strike at his legs, but Jean jumped back at the last minute. George then blocked an oncoming blow to his head.

Excitement and uncertainty was etched on the faces of the few spectators, as they watched the fight unfold. They shudder with every strike, clash, and blow that rang out.

Once again, the two swords clashed together in a collision of sparks. A deadlock ensued, as both men tried to push back the other. Both of them was equally determined to gain victory. Large beads of sweat formed on their heads, their teeth gritted vigorously, and their muscles became extremely tense. For a minute, they both seemed to evenly matched. However, it was only a matter of time before one of them gives in. For now, they just can't tell who.

Eventually, George's strength gave way and his weapon was lowered. Taking advantage of this, Jean eagerly pressed his opponent hard. George was overwhelmed by his furious onslaught and struggled to defend himself. Multiple blows was dealt by Jean upon his helpless opponent, and he showed no signs of slowing down. George decided to take a risk by thrusting at Jean's heart, but he easily parried it. So they went on like that, trading blows constantly and systematically. Obviously, Du Lys held the upper hand, while George barely managed to avoid his deadly blade. Soon, the Frenchman resolved upon ending it all with a final series of rapid-fire attacks.

When the dust cleared, George found himself on his knees and his sword out of his hand. He was shocked to see the Frenchman's blade pointing at his exposed throat.

Slowly, he looked up to see the smiling face of Jean du Lys. His deep blue eyes were glowing with triumph.

"There. I win."

Jean then lowered his weapon, much to George's relief, and offered him a hand. George willingly took it and was pulled up to his feet. Then without another word, the Frenchman simply turned and walked away with a sense of accomplishment.

Norfolk felt grateful towards the French ambassador. He tried to refrain himself from grinning or showing pleasure. _Now I won't have to deal with Wiltshire's irritating boasts for a while!_

George was too stunned to move, as he stood there idly. He was immediately joined by his father, who saw clearly the disappointment in his eyes.

"You did well,my son...but Du Lys is simply better."

George Boleyn watched the Frenchman leave with both resentment and respect.

"Yes, much better."

* * *

Looking out from her window, Mary had seen everything that happened. She smiled dreamily as she thought about Jean du Lys. They have been getting to know each other these past few months.

Even now, she could not believe her luck! Mary has never expected to find an ally so devoted as he, let alone a mere Frenchman. He has completely changed her view of the world. In time, she had come to admire the charismatic Frenchman. She knew that she can trust him,for he had revealed to her that he is an agent of the Catholic Church. Du Lys will never abandon her, he was too honorable for that.

_Knock Knock_

"Yes, come in."

The door opened and a servant bowed to her. "The King requires your presence for a midday meal."

"I see. Tell him that I'll be there shortly." With another short bow, the servant took his leave.

Sighing wearily, Mary then began walking to the dining room. But Jean was still on her mind. She was immensely grateful to have him as an ally by her side. He's not banished to some remote castle(Catherine) or preoccupied by stately duties in a distant country(Chapuys) or locked away in that dreaded Tower(Thomas Moore).

_No, he is right where I need him to be. Jean will protect me no matter what_

He has promised her a future. A future as the rightful Queen of England.

In spite of the fact that she will have to see Anne, Mary couldn't help but smile to herself. With Jean to support her, Mary's spirit soared with happiness. Nothing could possibly ruin her mood.

King Henry was busy obliteration a beef steak when Mary entered the room. Anne Boleyn sat comfortably beside him, while Charles Brandon sat across from him.

"Mary! Come, come and have a seat! Your food is getting cold." He gestured to an empty seat.

Mary did a graceful curtsy before sitting down. "Father, and Anne."

Anne fumbled with her ruby necklace. "Lady Mary."

Shockingly, that was all that she said. No sharp insults, no rude remark, no anything. So things went on without any incidents. It was mainly Henry and Charles doing the talking.

* * *

Ex-Queen Catherine of Aragon was finishing her daily prayer in the chapel of Kimbolten Castle.

"Amen"

She rose and turned to face her lady-in-waiting, Maria de Salinas. Having grew up together in Spain, the two women are very close indeed. Maria smiled gently, and so did Catherine. They both began the trip back to Catherine's chamber.

"My fight against the King is going nowhere", said Catherine suddenly. "I don't think I can carry on much longer."

Maria looked at her mistress with alarm. "What are you saying? Surely, it is your weariness talking. Mary needs you!"

"I know that she does",admitted Catherine," But she needs to have the King's favor even more. He has always been a fickle man. I don't want to see my Mary ripped to shreds by those horrid Boleyn-Howard wolves."

"You have a point, my Queen. However, I still think that you must keep raising your voice."

Catherine gave her a stern look. "Well right now, I am doing exactly that. Has anything changed yet? No. If I just cease to pester the King, then perhaps his heart will soften and he'll treat Mary better."

"But what about Mary?"Questioned Maria with concern."She will never come to believe that you have willingly stopped to fight for her rights! She'll be crushed!"

Catherines's heart sank instantly. She didn't respond, but tightly pursed her lips. Maria knew that she had hit a soft-spot.

Finally, they made it to Catherine's chamber. They were greeted by a Court messenger, who doffed his cap and bowed. Catherine bid him to rise.

"I have come with a message from King Henry", spoke the man, as he pulled out a rolled up parchment from his sleeve. "Here you go, milady. Oh and the King expects a quick answer."

Catherine took it with a nod and went inside her chamber. Maria closed the door and remained standing outside, along with the messenger.

Minutes flew by, before Catherine finally emerged from the room. "There, I have signed it. Bring this back to the King. I'm sure he'll be most pleased."

The messenger took the letter, then hastily left. As soon as they entered her chamber, Catherine was immediately bombarded by a confused Maria.

"What was that and why did you sign it? What did it say? I need to know!"

Catherine calmly held up her hand and signaled for silence. "If you must know, it was an offer from the the King."

Maria grew suspicious. "What kind of offer?"

"The kind that I can't refuse", replied Catherine mildly."With my signature, I have come to accept the King's annulment on the grounds of consanguinity. I shall renounce my title as 'Queen of England' and willingly acknowledge Anne Boleyn as his true wife after their marriage. I am required to write to my nephew, the Holy Roman Emperor, and tell him to cease supporting me, as there is no use. In return for my obedience, I shall be granted the new title of 'Her Highness, the Duchess of Lancaster', along with three palaces and an annual allowance. I am to be welcomed to Court, and have precedence over every women there, with the exception of the Queen. When I die, Mary is to inherit everything."

Maria could not believe what she is hearing! She almost fainted in her state of utter disbelief.

"How could you?"Maria demanded in denial."It's not like you give up so easily! What will Mary say when she finds out? I understand your reasons for doing so, but she will not. She will think that you have abandoned her."

Catherine turned away, for she realized that Maria is right. She closed her eyes and a single tear rolled down.

_Please forgive me, Mary._

* * *

**Yeah, so what can I say? I like a little bit of action. I think the duel really spice up the story, don't you think?**

**So Catherine has given up, but she knew it had to be done for the safety of her daughter. That's Best Mother of the Year worthy, right there! I'm planning for Henry to elevate Mary from the pit of bastardization and allow her to remain a princess.**

**Planning some romance for the next chapter too. To be honest, I only have a rough outline of the story, but I'll keep trying. Sorry for the long update, been busy lately and lazy. Oh and I'm not going to update for a while.**

**I need to work on my Joan of Arc novel. Seriously, it's a big deal to me. If anyone's interested, just send me a PM and I'll get back to you.**

**So I hope you guys liked this chapter and please review. I am making it officially mandatory for all my readers. It's what gives me life, so please help me out here!**

**Did I mention that tomorrow is my birthday? I'll be turning 14, whatevs. Slightly young for a future high school freshman, in my opinion.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Um...sorry? Yeah it's been a while since I updated and stuff. First couple of chapters was easy, but now we're getting in really deep. But that is what writing is all about, the challenge and adventure and hair-pulling-out heheheh. Really, I meant to write more often but always when the time comes, I change my mind. It sounds like I'm scared or something, but I'm pretty certain that's not the case.**

**Lately, it just seems like I want to do anything BUT writing. Probably just a phase, I hope. Might be caused by lack of reviews and feedbacks...yeah I'll just let that sink into you guys. *Hint Hint***

**So without further ado is chapter 4! :P**

** P.S. Don't forget that Jean and Joan are the same person. Should be quite easy, since Jean is the French masculine version of Joan.**

**P.S.S. There will be a slight MaryXOC but very briefly.**

* * *

**November 1531**

It was over. Mary's deepest fears have morphed itself into reality.

Her mother has failed her;the sainted Catherine of Aragon, with a single signature by her hand, had finally given up in her fight against King Henry and his heretical ways.

The news was delivered to Winchester Palace by early dusk. After the King, Mary was one of the first to receive that most dreadful of news. Her already abused heart almost shattered into bits, as she read the letter aloud, with Jean du Lys as witness.

"How could she?"cried Mary in anguish."This is all so sudden and unexpected! My mother hates the harlot and will never give up willingly! She was bullied, I just know it!"

From his seat in her chamber, Jean frowned in puzzlement. "This could not be so. Your mother must have some reasonable explanation for doing so. She must."

Mary gave him a grave look and hoped vigorously that he was right. But for now, there was only grief and sorrow at hand. Feeling those persistent tears amassing in her eyes, Mary decided to run to him. Surprised at her sudden action, Jean nonetheless willingly received her in his arms. He gently stroke her hair and back, as he quietly supported her.

"I'm here Mary", Jean whispered,"It's alright to cry. I am here for you."

It pained him internally as Mary continued to sob against his chest. He knew well that her spirit was now crushed, for she had such high hopes for her mother. The once proud and confident Tudor princess was now nothing more than a frightened little girl. Jean felt his heart flooding with pity and compassion for Mary. In all the time they've been together, he had grown to enjoy their friendship and was always delighted to see Mary being happy with that radiant smile of hers. Those precious memories were shattered by the sound of Mary's distress.

"It-It..doesn't make sense", spoke Mary while choking on her tears."My mother had fought for my legitimacy all this time...and now she stops? It doesn't make sense, Jean. My mother..."

Her words were cut off by a fresh torrent of tears, racing down her face. Tightly holding on to Jean, Mary sought comfort in his arms and felt so secure. Gradually, she snuggled up to his chest, taking in the perfumed scent of lavender that radiated from his being. Never have she felt this way about anybody. Jean was her rock, her valiant protector, her loyal friend. But now as she is enfolded in his warm embrace, she could not help but feel something more...personal.

Is it possible that she could be falling for him?

Jean's expression was sadly stoic, as he tenderly caressed Mary's back and neck. "Perhaps this is for your own good, dear Mary. You might see this as her abandoning you, but really-"

Their private moment of intimacy was abruptly interrupted, when a wearied Chapuys stepped into the room. Both Mary and Jean broke the embrace to stand up before him.

"Eustace, my dear ambassador!"said Mary as she began wiping away her tears."You are back from Spain. I am most glad for that."

The Spaniard gave a weak smile, before falling against the doorway. He was not feeling so well after doing all that running to reach Mary. His chest heaved with the struggle to gain air and sticky sweat trickled down his face. A deep cough from Chapuys instantly alarmed Mary and her companion.

Jean du Lys presently stepped forward and gave his hand to him. The two made only brief eye contact, as the Spanish ambassador graciously accepted the offer. He planned on asking the younger lad's name another time.

With some assistance, Chapuys was then eased into a chair. Jean stepped back to silently study the Spaniard.

_So this is the famous Eustace Chapuys that Mary holds in such high regards. He seems to be very experience in his duties. I can sense that he is indeed, very loyal and wise. _

Mary handed Chapuys a glass of water, which he eagerly drank. "I-I came as soon as I heard the news. I couldn't bring myself to believe it first. Tell me! Has she really given up?"

His brown eyes begged her for an answer.

Mary's lips pursed as she stared forlornly at the ground. She felt a squeeze on her shoulder and saw that it was Jean. He nodded encouragingly at her.

Mary smiled thinly, before finally returning her gaze on the waiting ambassador.

"It is true, my friend", she told him slowly."My mother, Queen Catherine, has officially signed her resignation in the fight for my legitimacy." Mary said those words without faltering, since she already used up all her tears.

She held out the crumbled, tear-stained, hideous letter in front of him. Chapuys only stared at it with fixed eyes. Slowly though, he reached out and took the document from her grasp.

As he skimmed across the words, his eyes grew wide in utter disappointment. Moments later he spoke again,"I am so sorry, Mary. If only I was here, perhaps I could have prevented her from doing this. Only myself is to blame."

Mary reached out and embraced him. "Nonsense, your Excellency!"proclaimed Mary as she attempted to soothe him. "Believe me, you are not to blame. At first, I felt crushed and hurt upon learning of it myself. After what seemed like an eternity of crying, it dawned on me that she was actually helping me."

Mary paused for a moment, instantly regretting her earlier words and thoughts of accusation against her dear mother.

"My mother,"she continued in earnest,"knew that as long Anne and her family is in power, my life will always be threatened here. So she did the one thing that was necessary for my safety;she yielded. She followed through with it, in hopes of warming my father's heart so that he'll be more merciful towards me. My own needs always came first in her heart."

Now enlightened, Chapuys chuckled and shook his head, feeling proud at Mary, yet foolish at once.

"You are growing in wisdom and intelligence everyday, dear Mary,"he said with a crooked smile."I am vexed at myself for not thinking about that sooner. Now it all makes sense. The world wouldn't be right anymore, if your mother had decided to give up for any other reason."

He and Mary exchanged tender glances, both smiling pleasantly. Leaning his back against a wall, Jean du Lys happily mused to himself. Of course, he knew that was Catherine's intentions all this time.

_See? This is not so bad after all._

Suddenly, Chapuys quirked his eyebrow trying to remember something. "What is it, Chapuys?"Inquired Mary.

"Oh yes! I meant to give you something, and seeing this is the right time-" He promptly produced a rolled up parchment-"Here, the King wanted me to give you this. Thank God, I came in time, for he was about to let the Duke of Norfolk do it instead!"

Mary winced at that man's name. She hated Norfolk with a passion, along with all his family. She was fully aware that he was the devious mastermind behind all her troubles, with him being incredibly influential over the King. After all, it was him who helped Anne win over her father. He has been trying to maintain an uneasy alliance between his family, the Howards, and the equally ambitious Boleyns for some time now.

Mary glanced at the parchment with fear. With her hand shaking, she finally took it up. Even as she held it, her fingers were still hesitant.

"Open it, Mary. You'll never know until you do",urged Jean as he fell into a seat beside her.

Slowly and cautiously, Mary unrolled the suspicious parchment, quite curious herself. Her two companions looked with anticipation, as her blue eyes rapidly scanned the document.

"My father stated that my mother has resigned,"she read aloud to them,"and that she accepts the annulment solely on the grounds of consanguinity. She has stepped down from her title of 'Queen of England', and is willing to acknowledge Anne Boleyn as my father's true wife after their marriage. To express his appreciation for her, the King shall be generous in granting her the new title of 'Her Royal Highness, Duchess of Lancaster'. Along with that, she is guaranteed to receive an annual payment of five hundred thousand pounds, and three palaces of her choice. She is to always be welcomed and treated with respect at Court, and is ranked above every woman in Court except Queen Anne. I, her daughter, is entitled to inherit everything upon her death."

Mary paused to take a breath. She looked up to see how Jean and Chapuys were reacting.

"You're mother's plan is working out very well", said Chapuys with delight. "Please keep on reading, Princess."

Nodding slightly, Mary resumed to read,"Also part of the divorce agreements, it is agreed that I am allowed to see my mother whenever I wish. Furthermore, I shall no longer be a bastard, and will be recognized as a princess of England, and heir presumptive until the birth of his prince by Anne. All of that is promised to me...on one condition?"

The next words made her face flush and her lips tightened.

"What is the matter, Princess?"Jean and Chapuys asked in unison.

Chapuys continued to question her with,"Is he making you acknowledge Anne Boleyn as Queen of England?"

Soon enough, she brought herself to look between them. Once again, her expression became grimly crestfallen. "He states specifically...that I am required to marry Anne Boleyn's brother, George, the Viscount of Rochford."

Those words stung the two men like deadly poison, against their ears. Their faces faltered into a pale grimace, as they gaped at Mary in astonishment.

"No! How could your father do such a thing!"said Chapuys his accent thick with anger. "By God, that man has gone too far this time! That dark Whore is to blame! She has polluted his mind with absurd rubbish!"

Meanwhile, Mary was lost in her own thoughts, reveling in her sorrows. Her mind and heart was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that she could not control.

_This cannot be the way! I hate George and his family! The idea of marrying that brute makes me sick. Also...my heart already belongs to another._

* * *

After recovering from their episode of shock and outrage, Mary decided that it would be best for her to take time, and think it over. Jean and Chapuys quickly complied with the idea. This is a deadly serious situation and it would favor them to not rush into it too hastily. So that was the end of the current matter, for now.

Mary then put away the rather blasphemous piece of parchment. Out of sight, out of mind. It was near dawn, but she and Chapuys continued to beam with excitement over their recent reunion. The two spent nearly an hour talking of light matters and various foreign affairs, while consuming ale and fruit. Jean du Lys chose to stand by the window, blue eyes staring out into the young horizon. All of their worries and troubles gradually melted away as they sat there, happily savoring each others' company.

Of course, the spell of sleep was bound to return at some point. Insisting on making up some lost sleep, Mary then politely bid both men to leave. Completely understanding, Chapuys and Jean obeyed her and with some parting last words, promptly took their exit.

"Hmm, seems like I haven't learn your name yet", spoke Chapuys, thus ending the silence between them. His gaze fell upon the youth walking beside him. "If you please, I wish to know it."

"Jean du Lys, your Excellency." Jean held out his hand for a shake.

Shock was visible in Chapuys' face as he firmly shook the lad's hand. "Pardon me but...are you really Jean du Lys? The Pope's agent who was sent here from Rome?"

Jean immediately stopped to glance warily at him. It was now his turn to be shocked. "Yes. Yes I am. Pray tell, how do you know about me...and my mission?"

Chapuys only blinked twice, before wordlessly resuming on his way. As though on cue, Jean did the same and soon they both were equally paced again.

"Well?"

The Spaniard chuckled softly before replying, "While I was overseas, I accompanied Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, to Rome. It was there that we caught wind of your covert mission, so to speak."

"Oh...so you did."

A broad grin formed across Chapuys' lips, as he patted the younger Frenchman's back.

"Does Princess Mary know about it?"

"Why of course, she does", answered Jean with a small smile. "I wish to aid her in her destiny of becoming Queen of England."

"Oh really?" Chapuys' eyebrow arched with interest. "Well then, Monsieur, I am by far...most elated to have met you. You are the Pope's man, so therefore I do not doubt your loyalty to Mary."

Jean looked straight into his eyes, an expression of determination fixed on his smooth features. "Sir, I give you my word that for nothing in this world, will I betray Mary. I'm most offended that you would even refer to such a thing. God has sent me here to help her, to ensure the future of our divine Faith."

"Don't take my words so heavily now, Monsieur. It's naturally in my habit to distrust the French, and I do apologize for offending you."

Jean's stiff expression then faded into a gracious smile. "I appreciate your sincerity, and will indeed accept your apology. You are every bit as noble and wise as she said you to be."

Chapuys beamed with joy, at the thought of Mary holding him in such high regards.

"Since we now have concluded to being on the same side, I suggest we discuss details later this day. I am quite weary from my journey over and wish to rest."

* * *

On the other side, the news of Catherine's initial deflation was happily received with much joy and revelry.

None was more delighted than Anne's father and uncle, who's egos were drastically uplifted. It felt so good to know that the great and formidable Catherine of Aragon was finally conquered! All that was left, is to marry her pest of a daughter to George and break her down! They planned to show her what they are capable of, so that she will fear and cower beneath their power!

With that dream in mind, they became even more self-conscious and delusional with each passing minute.

King Henry stared intently into the dark beauty of Anne's eyes, as the first course was being served for the feast he ordered. He was in the best mood ever, now that he's liberated from the shackles of his previous fruitless marriage, and can now marry his true love.

Anne turned her head to come face-to-face with the lovesick Henry. She tilted her head with curiosity and amusement.

Smiling brightly, she asked him, "Henry, dear, why are you staring at me so?"

So lost was he in his romantic brooding, that it took him a few minutes to realize that she was talking to him.

"It's just that I love you so much, darling", he said dreamily when he found his tongue."You are everything I could ever ask for, and I am anticipating every second until we are married in Holy matrimony. Though I do wish that you could try and get along with Mary...I love you, Anne."

Henry's brows were furrowed a bit, as he was trying to comprehend what he just said. Never in his life has he ever felt this passionate. It was as if he's a young boy experiencing love for the first time again.

Suddenly, Anne swooped in and gently planted a kiss on his cheek. With his heart fluttering, Henry looked up to see his bride, a full smile on her lips and dark eyes shining.

"That was extremely kind of you to say, Henry. I love you too."

Henry was instantly captivated by her mystical beauty. He could feel his chest expanding as his heart continued to swell with adoration for Anne. Or could that just be his breath being taken away? Both perhaps?

Soon, he took her hand to clasp them in his own. There was an imminent spark between the couple, as one could easily tell by their expressions of unbridled affection for one another. They only needed each other.

"Ahem...your Majesty?"

The King winced, slightly irritated at their special moment being so abruptly ruined. He whipped around to glare angrily at Thomas Cromwell, his adviser.

"What is it, Cromwell?"

"If you don't mind,Your Highness, I was going to give a speech in your honor."

With his hand still entwined with Anne's, a glowing smile emerged on Henry's rugged face. "Oh Cromwell, the sounds splendid!"

He took another glance at Anne before nodding, saying, "Very well, you may proceed."

Cromwell then rose from his seat, a goblet of wine held aloof in his hand. He took a moment to skim over the vast amount of patrons, who were pleasantly dining and conversing without a care in the world.

"May I have your attention!"

The noises ceased as all eyes automatically landed on Cromwell. From the look of things, they all knew what was coming. Standing tall and erect, Cromwell cleared his throat before beginning his speech.

"I, Thomas Cromwell, as our great King's loyal servant and trusted adviser-"

From their place in the middle of the table, Sir Thomas Boleyn and the Duke of Norfolk quietly scoffed together. They have always been wary of the staunch Reformist.

"By God, he's already acknowledging himself after the King", snorted Sir Thomas.

Next to him, Sir Thomas glared at Cromwell with keen observation. "Yes, he's quite full of himself for a lowly butcher's son. What chances are there for _true _nobility like us? Also, I heard that he's been filling the King's head with Reformist ideas."_  
_

"So he's a heretic and an impostor", stated Boleyn sharply,"Well then...I'm sure we can find out a way to put him in place. For now, let's just put up with Cromwell a little longer, and enjoy our goodness of fortunes."

"-Henry is the wisest, most noble and virtuous King to have ever sat upon the throne of England. We are so fortunate to be ruled by him and to be graced by his wonderful presence. By the blessing of Almighty God, he shall work tirelessly to make England a prosperous and powerful nation! Never doubt that, all of you!"

He paused to steal a quick glance at Anne, who has been intently listening.

"So knowing all of that to be true, I can honestly say that I fully support the marriage of our strong King to Anne Boleyn. As his previous wife, that Spanish Catherine of Aragon has proven herself to being barren, due to the fact that their marriage was disapproved by God, it is willed by Him that Anne shall indeed grant the King a healthy son! Now let's all toast in honor of their happy union together, and for a future Prince of Wales!"

Cheers and clapping erupted from the multitude, as everyone raised their goblets in response.

"Drink up, lads!", called out Henry in a joyous voice.

So they did just that, drained their goblets and then set them down with a series of resounding thumps. Their was a moment of formal silence afterwards. With a monarch's pride, Henry smiled upon his vast multitude of loyal subjects. It then struck him how far he's gotten in the past few months. He have done the impossible; he broke away from the Pope in Rome, created his own Church of England, annulled his marriage to a Spanish princess, and now his engagement to Anne.

_If that is how I am to be remembered in the chronicles of history, the so be it!_

The peace of the gathering was abruptly shattered as Cromwell collapsed to the floor. Startled, Henry turned towards his direction. Cromwell was thrashing about on the floor, one hand on his throat while the other reached out towards Henry for help. Sheer horror and distress was etched on Henry's face as he stood there paralyzed watching his friend suffocate to death. Meanwhile, panic overcame gathering as everyone rushed and scrambled away from the table including Anne.

From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Cromwell's goblet which had been knocked over. Something instantly clicked in his mind.

_Poison!_

Inwardly, he swore to bring the treacherous fiend responsible for this act of terrorism to justice! For now, he needs to take care of Cromwell. Henry was by Cromwell's side within minutes. His heart skipped a beat upon seeing his face covered in a shade of purple. Cromwell's gasping had become more vigorous and deeper than before.

Gritting his teeth, Henry struggled to support the bloated man. "Where are the servants?! I need help over here now! Hurry!"

At his command, a team of servants rushed to the scene and carried Cromwell out of the room. Henry motioned for one of them over to him.

"Go and fetch the royal physician!" The lad bowed quickly before setting off on his task.

Exasperated from the stress, Henry shook his head while rubbing his temples. He then felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

_"_Don't worry, dear Henry. I'm certain that your brilliant physicians can save Cromwell. I-"

She was cut off when a sweaty servant ran into the room and abruptly fell to Henry's feet.

"What is the meaning of this?" Demanded a frowning Henry.

As soon as the lad looked up, he burst into tears and grabbed hold of Henry's ankle. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness, I have committed treason! Please forgive me, out of the kindness of your heart! I'm so sorry!"

Henry's mouth opened slightly as he gazed down at the sobbing young man. Slowly, the blood crept into his cheeks making his face the color of fire. His fists clenched tightly by his side. Henry was now officially furious.

"So you are the traitor who did this?! You poisoned His Grace, Thomas Cromwell?!"

The servant just mutely nodded through his tears. He didn't even knew what hit him before Henry picked him up and roughly pinned him against the wall. The poor lad then opened his eyes to see the savage eyes of his king stabbing against his soul.

"WHY YOU TREACHEROUS BASTARD! WHY?! WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU COMMIT TREASON AGAINST ME YOUR KING?! TELL ME NOW OR LOSE YOUR HEAD, YOU WORM!"

Henry's hand gripped the lad's throat and he struggled to gain air. Finally, he managed to give a shaky answer.

"I was forced to, Your Highness, believe me!"

Henry wasn't expecting that. "WHO PUT YOU UP TO THIS?! TELL ME!

"Tho-Thomas More."

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN**

**Oh the dramatic anticipation! So soul-wrenching isn't it? Well I hope that it will be enough to satisfy your needs for now. I will make sure to come back with a new chapter soon.**

**No promises though.**

**Please review and all that stuff. Farewell for now!**


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